Lessons From My First Successful Turkey Hunt

After years of coming up short on turkey hunts that amounted to heavily armed hikes through the California mountains, I would finally see my first shootable turkey on a hunt north of where I was previously hunting. This trip with my father-in-law started with a stop in the wine country of Paso Robles. This has since become my favorite place for wine tasting in the world. So much so that I have fallen in with those who believe Napa Valley is overpriced for wine that is only better by reputation, but not taste. But I digress.

After a day of enjoying wine, we continued about an hour north to where we would be meeting a guide in the rolling hills the next morning. We ended up at one of the most seediest motels I have ever seen. The guests next door were quite loud and not the most upstanding-looking gentlemen. They were so active in and out of their room all night that I started to wonder if I was a witness to a planned heist.

We survived the night and made our way to several hundred acres of private ranch land that extended deep into the hills. Our guide met us there and drove us down into a valley where he believed the turkey would be. I road in the truck bed on a car seat that was bolted to the center while my father-in-law sat in the passenger seat. The guide stopped about halfway down a hill and got out of his truck. He slammed the door to see if he could get some gobbles in the distance. There were several. All of a sudden, turkey started to come down from the hills under the cover of the trees. The guide drove us away from the turkey and set us up under a tree to wait for them to come by.

We only had to wait a moment before what seemed like hundreds of turkeys started to come through past our area. It was insane how many there were. The guide would later say, "I bet you'll never see that many turkeys again in your life," and he's probably right. This must be where they've all been hiding when I was trying to find them over the years before.

He later told me that I should have taken a shot, but because of my lack of experience and probably being overwhelmed by so many turkeys, I didn't know what to do. I was just in awe at the site of them all. I questioned how far a shotgun could hit and the thought of hitting more than one turkey concerned me. I also didn't have the prepared knowledge to know if I would be shooting at a Tom or a Jake. The three ways I've since discovered how to tell the difference is; the beard length on a Tom will be about 7 to 9 inches whereas a Jake's will be less than 6 inches, A long and sharp spur length is a dead giveaway for a Tom, and the last method is the shape of their tail fan being a perfect half circle. Jake's tail fans tend to be longer in the center with shorter feathers on the outside, so it creates a sort of staircase effect. Tom's on the other hand have an almost perfect half circle. This last one isn't foolproof though as I have Jake's mounted in my garage that look close to a half circle. The beard and spur lengths are going to be the most reliable.

After the giant flock passed us by, the guide told me to spot and stock a group of about 10 turkey that went down the center. I was to circle around across a dry creek and sneak up on them. He was going to take my father-in-law in the other direction and see if he could get him one. I set off at a run as instructed and tried my best to be stealthy once I was at the creek bed. They were still moving pretty quickly, so I felt the pressure to stay on them and probably sacrificed my stealth. I was probably close enough at this moment to take a shot, but found that the turkey were hiding amongst a herd of cattle in this area. There was no way I was going to risk hitting a cow, so I waited for the turkey to move on. They soon changed direction and headed up a hillside. I attempted to use brush to hide behind as I attempted to get closer, but in hindsight, they likely saw me coming.

I followed them down that hill and up another as they hid behind trees as they moved. I then heard two gunshots in the distance. "Sounds like my father-in-law got one. Time to catch up." The turkey I was following made their way over the top of a hill. I was close now. I just needed an opportunity to sneak up a little closer and then I could take my first shot at a turkey. I laid low until I could see the last of their heads disappear over the hillside and I lost sight of them. I slowly made my way to the top and peaked over the horizon of the hilltop. Over this hill was open pasture with a couple of cows grazing. I looked around but only saw cattle. To my surprise, the turkey were gone. They just disappeared. I just stared confused at this open field wondering where in the world they could have vanished to. There was nowhere visible they could hide unless they somehow turned back toward the tree line without me seeing this large group of birds. I stared confused trying to decide where to try and look for them. I knew I only had one chance at choosing the correct direction before they would allude me permanently.

I chose to follow the area of tree line that made the most logical sense and started to head back down the hill. Unfortunately, I made it back to the tree where the flock of hundreds passed us earlier without seeing any more turkey. I had missed my opportunity. I met back up with the guide and my father-in-law and he had indeed found himself a turkey. I explained what I just went through with the flock I was following and the guide said I should have charged up that hill as soon as they disappeared over it, ready to shoot as soon as I stumbled on them. In my mind, I thought I'd cause them to scatter out of range if I had done that, but I didn't know what I didn't know. Being green to hunting will cause a lot of hesitation and missed opportunities and that's ok. But it won't stop you from beating yourself up about it years after you've had a lot of successful hunts. There will always be that one that got away. I can't tell you how many deer I let walk during my first whitetail hunt before I finally worked myself up to take a shot. But it is better to hesitate than to take a rushed shot that only harms the animal instead of taking it down. Or worse would be those stories of inexperienced hunters with buck fever who shoot the first sign of movement, sometimes being another hunter. Don't take the shot until your ready. A missed opportunity is a far less burden than painful regret.

After letting a buffet of turkey go, the guide now had the challenge of tracking down another turkey for me. We got in his truck and started to drive around the upper hillsides. It was not long before we came across a couple more turkey, but they climbed the hill before I could hop out of the truck bed to fire. I asked if I should go after them, but the guide said they were gone.

A short while later, the guide stopped the truck and told me there was some up ahead in the bushes. I hopped out and slowly approached the spot he pointed out. When I came around a large bush, I aimed down at the brush below me just as two turkey popped out and took flight. They spread their wings and glided across to another hillside. This was another moment of hesitated confusion as I had no idea that turkey could fly. I questioned whether these were even turkeys and didn't take the shot. Realizing my mistake, I walked back to the truck to what I am sure was a frustrated guide. I felt more sorry for him than myself at this point. I was green to turkey hunting and it was showing.

We drove around some more and found ourselves at the top of a hillside that overlooked the rolling hills and valley below us where we stopped for a bathroom break. The guide took this moment to scan the area with his binoculars as I wondered if I was even getting a turkey today.

Continuing down the mountain, the guide slowed and pointed out a group of tule elk grazing on another hillside above us. It was a surreal moment as the sun was rising behind the hill they were standing on, giving these majestic creatures that early morning glow. I was wishing I had my camera. I still think about this moment and dream of the day that I might win a tule elk tag to come back to these California hills and bring home such an amazing creature. As the bull led its family out of sight over the hill, we continued back down.

We drove around a while more as the cold wind blasted me in the back of that truck. I covered my face with my thin gaiter, but it didn't help much. At this point, I was just waiting for our time to be up. Just as I was giving up, we came across some turkey right off the side of the road. Luckily for me, they tried to climb a steep hill, giving me time to get up and jump down from the truck. I quickly took aim at one near the top of the hill and fired without any hesitation this time. I had enough of missed opportunities. By instinct, I had hit the turkey square across the head. It rolled back down the hill as the other turkey escaped. I had done it. I had killed my first turkey.

The feeling was surreal as I just looked at the turkey realizing I had just taken a life. I had killed many fish before I hunted, but something about killing a mammal made this different. I was proud of what I had finally accomplished, but I also felt a sense of sorrow for this animal. There was no regret in my actions, but I was being to understand the weight of being a hunter. When my wife and some family members later asked me if I felt anything for taking a life, I lied at first because I was almost ashamed for having those emotions. I didn't want to have them because I wanted to be a tough hunter. What I didn't understand at that time is that these emotions are completely normal and in fact healthy. They also never go away. With every kill, I take on the weight of the life I just took. But it is a weight that also includes joy and thankfulness for the animal that will now feed my and my family. A gift of harvest provided by God. By taking on this emotional weight, I am earning the harvest and resources that this animal will provide for me.

Hunters get asked two questions a lot in the justification of their actions. The first and most common question is, "Does hunting really make you feel like a man when you're killing something?" While this question is meant to be condescending, the simple answer is yes. Yes because I am going out to harvest my meat instead of letting someone else do it for me so that I may buy it at the grocery store where the hard part is already taken care of. The second question is, "if you're hunting for meat, then why do you keep the heads of 'trophy animals' for mounting?" While having mounts is cool and exciting, the biggest reason I do this is as a remembrance of the animal. Along with stories of the hunt I get to share with my guests, I want to keep the memory of taking this animal in the forefront of my mind so that even when the meat is consumed and gone, I have the mount to keep the memory of the kill alive. An appreciation for what that animal provided. Obviously, I'm not going to keep everything I kill, but I may find other ways to use all parts of its body. Because of the respect I have for these animals, I've begun looking into using all parts including melting the fat down for tallow and soaps as well as tanning the hides. My goal has become to discard as little of the animal as possible.

After finally getting our turkeys, we made our way off the property where the guide showed me how to gut and butcher what he considered the best meat from the turkey. In my honest opinion, he wasted a lot of the meat that got tossed into the brush for a wild animal to consume. I've since quartered turkey to cook individual parts, such as the dark meat in a slow cooker for shredded turkey meat, but my favorite method is still to smoke a turkey whole after a good brine and herb butter stuffed under the skin. Even after years of harvesting turkey, you'll always regret the shot you didn't take. And that day was chock-full of them for me.